DVD Commentary- DTF 5 part 2

[lls_mutant]

***

“Well, you look like you survived Christmas,” James said as they claimed their compartment.

“Yup,” Sirius agreed cheerfully. “My father completely ignored my existence. I returned the favor.”

James sighed with relief.

“How was your Christmas, Prongs?”

“Romania, this time. I swear, just once I’d like to stay home and have a tree and stockings and all that. A normal Christmas.” James flung himself down in the seat and stared out the window. “But with this Lord Voldemort rising, and things getting worse and worse… Dad’s out all the time now. Mum worries.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Sirius said, settling down next to him. “I’ve heard things… just whispers, right now, but my uncle Alphard said he thinks it will get worse.”

“So does my Dad.”

They both stared out the window grimly.

Put in solely to acknowledge Voldie there.

***

Heee. This scene has no purpose except that I think it's funny.

The sun would be up soon, frosting the cold snowy campus with an early golden light. The wolf, the dog, the stag, and the rat began making their way back to the Shrieking Shack. It had been a heady, hectic night, and Sirius was smarting a bit from a rather nasty bite he’d sustained when they’d gotten a little too close to Hogsmeade. That hadn’t been the best idea. It was still hard to believe that if he hadn’t been in the way, and if James hadn’t had those antlers, Remus would be terrorizing the village. Literally. It just didn’t fit Remus.

Peter was shivering. Sirius yipped to get James’s attention, and James stopped and lowered his head so the rat could climb up, which he did gratefully. And then Sirius saw it.

It was a cat, a tabby cat walking stiffly through the snow. Before he knew what was happening or could think about it in the least, Sirius was after it, barking up a storm. The cat yowled and scurried away, and Sirius bounded after it until the cat scrambled up a tree and perched in the branches, hissing down at him. Sirius jumped up, paws against the trunk of the tree, barking until a gentle prod of antlers reminded him that there were other things he should be doing than chasing cats.

Once they had returned Remus to the shack and were safely in their room again, back in human form, Peter and James both dissolved into laughter.

“What?” Sirius demanded. “Look, it’s just one of those things! Every now and then I do get flashes of dog behavior. I let my mother rub my ears over Christmas, for crying out loud!”

Peter was still laughing, but James tried to choke it down. “Padfoot, mate,” he managed, wiping his eyes. “Remember who else in this castle is an Animagus?”

Sirius thought for a moment and then… “Oh no.”

“Oh yes. Didn’t you see the markings? You chased Professor McGonagall up a tree.”

Sirius wasn’t sure how he was ever going to sit through another Transfiguration class again.

***

“We’re going where?” Sirius repeated, incredulously.

“Easter dinner at the Potters,” his mother said. “They’ve invited us. Regulus won’t be joining us, however. Narcissa and Lucius have invited him to their place.”

“But, Father keeps ranting about how Mr. Potter is an idiot for going against Voldemort, and a Mudblood lover, and-“

“Your father is quite aware of all of that, but he is also aware of the connections. Now get dressed, Sirius. We’re due over there in fifteen minutes.”

Unable to believe his luck, Sirius obeyed.

***

Timothy Potter greeted them as they stepped out of the fireplace, and Sirius inwardly admired how well both Mr. Potter and his own father were faking civility. The mothers made an even better show of it; Sirius wondered if it was just something women did better or if there was genuinely less ill-feeling. Probably a little of both.

“The boys are out front, Sirius,” Mr. Potter told him as he lead his parents into the front room. Sirius headed for the front door, hoping it wasn’t a hostile environment among the adults that drove the others out into the chilly April weather.

It wasn’t, and what it was was far better than Sirius had hoped.

“No way!” he said, stopping dead on the Potter’s doorstep. There, in front of him, was a car. A 1968 Mustang, sleek and black, completely Muggle and amazingly cool.

I did do some research on cars for this. Incidentally, aside from Sirius's canon motorcycle, I do believe all boys are fascinated by engines to some extent. My son watched trucks from as early as three months.

“No way,” he repeated, gawking. “James, is it yours?”

“Nope. Moony’s,” James sighed, running his hand over it.

“Really?” Sirius asked, looking at Remus who was sitting on the hood.

“No, not really,” Remus sighed wistfully, unwrapping a piece of Droobles. “Technically, it’s Mum’s. But you can guess who picked it out.” He rolled his eyes affectionately.

“It’s got a V8 engine,” James said, his eye wide.

“Um, James? The engine is in the hood.”

“I’m looking in the hood!”

“No, that’s the trunk.” Remus snapped his gum. “I’m sitting on the hood.”

Apparently one of them is the bonnet, but oh well.

“Well move your arse,” Sirius commanded. “I want to see.”

Remus slid off the hood and popped it open. All four boys gathered around, staring at the engine.

“Wow,” Sirius breathed.

“Is it a four stroke?” Peter asked.

“Nah, eight,” James said in a offhandedly superior manner. “Can’t you tell, Wormtail?” He pointed to the cylinders, counting, “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!”

No, James. It's a four-stroke- Peter was right. The four strokes are the intake, compression, combustion, and exhaust (or more crudely known as suck, squeeze, bang, and blow). I believe I was right about the V8 engine.

“What’s the compression ratio?”

“At least four to one,” Sirius said, not to be outdone by James, and privately determined to get a book on cars at the very next opportunity. “Any fool with eyes can see it’s an indirect injection, twelve deciliter, three thousand horsepower- Moony, stop smacking your gum in my ear! Werewolf indeed, you sound more like a cow!”

Try a compression ratio of 8.7:1, direct injection (I think), 302-458 cubic inch, 230-335 horsepower engine… depending on what engine you bought. I forget which engine I used, but it's at the bottom of the FA copy of DTF. However, Sirius is right about Remus smacking his gum.

Remus grinned and slowed his chewing into exaggerated motions, dulling his eyes and opening his mouth wide and sending Peter into gales of laughter. “You’re disgusting,” Sirius informed Remus, who did indeed look very cow-like.

“Just living up to my nickname.”

“What? Obnoxious Prat?”

“Nope.”

“Amazing Wanker” James suggested with high good humor.

“And such language on Easter,” Peter tutted, shaking his head. “It’s Remus. Words of four syllables or more. Insufferable Anklebiter?”

“Nope. MOOOOOOny.”

The four of them dissolved into laughter, and the conversation degenerated from there until it was little more than a series of barnyard noises.

“What are you boys doing?” Mrs. Potter was standing on the doorstep. She was answered by her own son’s oinking, Remus’s moo, Peter’s baa, and Sirius’s indignant quack. “Never mind,” she sighed. “I really don’t want to know. Dinner’s ready, boys.”

“All right, Mum.” James took one last look at engine and then slammed the hood shut. “What’s for dinner?”

“Lamb,” Mrs. Potter said, ushering them in and glaring at Peter when he made alarmed sheep sounds. “No more sound effects, boys. And wash your hands!”

Sound effects in the Wizarding world? Oh, wait. Special effects sweets. YES! I have a pass!

Soon they were seated at a table for thirteen with their parents and Peter’s younger sisters, appearing polite as best they could. However, Sirius had the suspicion they were doing far better at it than their parents, even if he’d begun quacking at the dinner table.

“So, what exactly do you do, Marilyn?” Elizabeth Black was asking, her tone clearly expecting her to say Marilyn Lupin lay around all day doing nothing or picked up garbage for a living. Elizabeth had out her best manners, making Mrs. Lupin look uncouth and clumsy.

“I’m a chemistry professor,” Marilyn answered in a formal tone, “at a University. It’s somewhat like Potions. I was hoping someone,” she fixed Remus with a mock-stern eye, “would follow me, but he seems to take after his father.” Remus grinned at her and Damien looked affronted.

Amusingly, there is a Professor Snape at one of the Universities in England. He visited our department, and you should have seen me snarf soda when I got the email titled "Professor Snape's Itinerary." I wore my Hogwarts sweatshirt that day, but he either didn't get it or ignored me. (To be fair, it's actually pretty subtle, if you don't look too close.)

“I was never that bad a potions!” he protested with a smile. “After all, I was an Auror!”

“Yes, and why is that, Damien?” Arden asked, his voice polite but the words as sharp as jagged glass. “Why are you no longer an Auror?”

“Is it your business?” Damien snapped back.

“There were other career opportunities,” Marilyn put in. “Amelia, this lamb is excellent.”

“So what do you do with chemistry?” Sirius asked before his father could make any more snide comments at Mr. Lupin. “What kind of stuff are you working on?”

“I’m what’s called a polymer chemist,” Marilyn said. “I work on making chemicals that can make plastics.”

“How do Muggles make plastic?” Sirius asked, interested.

“Sirius, that’s not an appropriate question,” Arden put in.

“I asked how they make plastic, not how they make babies. [I]That[/I] would be an inappropriate question.”

And that sounds several years too young.

“Don’t get smart with me, boy.”

“It’s kind of complicated,” Marilyn said, ignoring Arden. “I can explain it to you later if you like, but I’m afraid I’d bore half the table.”

“I’m sure,” Arden muttered.

Damien slammed his fork down. “Black, if you can’t be civil to my wife-“

“Why don’t we all just relax,” Timothy Potter put in. “It’s Easter. Let’s just enjoy each others’ company.”

You know, Tim Potter is a bit of an idiot.

“I don’t enjoy the company of Mudblood lover like him.”

“Father!” Sirius interrupted. “Can’t you just-“

“Sirius! Be quiet!”

“Then be polite!”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Arden stood up, coming around the table towards his son. “What did you say?”

“Arden, please. Sit down,” Timothy implored.

“Be polite,” Sirius said, facing his father firmly and ignoring Mr. Potter. “We’re here as guests, and you knew the Lupins were going to be here.”

“I did not.”

“You should have been able to figure it out. We’ve been friends with Remus since first year.”

“And I’ve been telling you to drop that filthy little Mudblood since first year!”

“Excuse me!” Damien cut in, standing up. “Don’t talk about my son that way!”

“That’s what he is!”

“He’s a halfblood!” Sirius shouted. “So what?”

“Can the three of you please cut it out?” Timothy interrupted.

Arden turned on him. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t say, Potter!”

Timothy drew himself up straight. “I will while you’re in my house. And while you are in my house, you will respect Damien and his family and lay off your own son. If that is beyond you, you are more than welcome to leave.”

Finally. Someone decides to inflict violence with a wand!

“Fine. I wouldn’t stay here with this ass and his slut wife-“

“Damien, put your wand AWAY!” Marilyn shouted.

“And his FREAK son if you paid me,” Arden continued as if Marilyn hadn’t spoken. “Elizabeth, Sirius, we’re going.” Elizabeth stood and joined her husband. Sirius hesitated, unsure. He looked frantically at James, and James shook his head. The message was clear. Stay.

“Sirius, now.” Arden grabbed his son by the wrist and stalked away. It might have been effective- Sirius even followed for a step or two- but as he passed Remus, Arden spit on him.

Damien roared something, but Sirius was closer. He yanked out of his father’s grasp and grabbed his wand.

“Expelliarmus!” His mother was quicker, and Sirius’s wand flew into the center of the table.

“You little-“ a stream of obscenity unlike anything Sirius had heard exploded from his father, and his head snapped around with the force of his father’s blow.

“Arden, no!”

Sirius’s hear leapt as his mother reached out for his father, and then broke with her next three words.

“Not in public!”

His father’s handsome face looked twisted and cruel in his eyes, and he focused on it because he couldn’t bear to look at his mother and see her anger, or for her to see his disappointment. He had braced himself for another blow when a strong arm wrapped around his chest and there was a loud crack and darkness, and then he was standing in a quiet room. Damien pushed him to sit on a bed and snapped, “Stay right here, Sirius. I’ll be back in an hour.” He disapperated, and Sirius was left alone.

And it turns out Side-Along Apparation is totally canon. How cool are my Divination skills?

Sirius sat on Remus’s bed, afraid to move. Gradually fear and shock receded, and he could see again.

He couldn’t think. Not right now. He looked around, trying to assess where he was. The Lupins’ house, and in Remus’s room. Remus’s room was smaller than his, James’s, or Peter’s, or maybe it was only the books that made it seem so. Three of the walls were covered with books; from children’s readers to thick paperbacks of Muggle fiction. No Quidditch posters, no broom, no toys, just shelf upon shelf of books.

The books. I don't object to Remus reading… just the characterizations that often result from bookworm!Remus. Note the plethora of pictures indicating what Remus truly loves.

Books and pictures, Sirius realized. There were a few obligatory pictures of Remus’s parents, but everywhere there were pictures from school. Sirius moved over to Remus’s desk and examined the corkboard that hung over it. Except for two or three pictures of the prefects, they were all pictures of some combination of Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter. That uncomfortable realization of how lonely Remus’s life had been crept in again.

Although, Sirius realized as he returned to the bed and leaned against the wall, perhaps his own life wasn’t very different. He didn’t like that thought, either, or the thought of what was going on right now at the Potters’.

Next to the bed there was a picture of him and Remus. He picked it up, looking at it sadly. He only vaguely remembered James taking it; it was just another normal day at Hogwarts. He and Remus had been toasting marshmallows over the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Nothing special, to most people. But to two boys who had never had friends growing up, it was extraordinary, Sirius thought.

And yes. You're right, you pervert.

“I have some ice for you.”

Sirius jumped. Remus was standing in the doorway, advertised ice pack in hand. “Hey. I didn’t know you were back.”

“Yeah. Dad said to tell you he’s coming up in a bit, by the way. He’s furious.”

“Your father had three moods when it comes to me: furious, suspicious, and pity.”

“He’s in furious mode right now, although I don’t think it’s really at you. He and Mum are fighting.”

“Over what?”

Remus shrugged. “She thinks he should have just kept his mouth shut and been polite.”

Sirius snorted. “Like my parents were being polite?”

“That’s what he said.”

“It’s amazing your father and I don’t get along better, given how much we agree.”

“It is,” a gruff voice said from the doorway. Sirius closed his eyes and knocked his head back against the wall. “Remus, your mother wants you downstairs. She needs help with dinner, seeing how none of us had a chance to eat.”

“Yes, sir.” Remus shot Sirius one last look and then ducked out of the room.

Damien leaned against the wall, watching Sirius. The gaze was uncomfortable, and eventually Sirius ducked his head and brought the ice pack to his cheek.

“I have this fascination with Muggle engines,” Damien finally said. “I’ve been reconditioning a car. Do you want to come down and see it?”

“All right,” Sirius agreed. He slid off the bed and followed Damien downstairs and outside.

The Mustang was parked in the driveway, but Damien led him over to a detached garage and opened the door to reveal a jumble of parts and an old Cadillac. Damien pulled off his robes to reveal Muggle clothes underneath, which Sirius eyed enviously.

I love Damien's garage. I was so sad when Chapter 7 hit.

“What happened after I left?” he finally asked as Damien settled down to work on the engine.

“Well, your father was still raving when I got back. Amazingly, he hadn’t attacked Marilyn.”

“Did he…”

“Attack Remus?” Damien finished, arching an eyebrow. “Well, he did, but fortunately it was with a hex and Remus is quick with a shield charm.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said helplessly.

Damien shrugged.

“Why did you bring me back here?”

“I wasn’t going to let this,” Damien leaned over and touched Sirius’s cheek gently, “happen again. It would have been worse when you got home.”

“I know it.” Sirius picked up a wrench and played with it. “Why didn’t you let Mr. Potter deal with it?”

“You’re safer here, at least this time. That’s all.”

“Oh.”

Now THIS fits Damien, much better than Chapter 2 did.

Damien returned to work on the engine, fitting together pieces like a giant puzzle. Sirius watched him, the smell of oil and metal stinging his nose as he played with the tools. He thought about his parents, returning to the cold, rich house he’d always called home.

His father had no power to hurt him anymore, he told himself, only to make him angry. He shouldn’t have done that to Remus. He squelched down on the voice that indignantly declared a father should be more respectful of his son’s friends.

He couldn’t think about his mother.

“I haven’t spoken to my parents in eleven years,” Damien said suddenly.

“Eleven years…” Sirius did the math. “Since Remus was bitten.”

Damien nodded. “Since they told us to have him put down.” Sirius cringed. “They won’t speak to us, we won’t speak to them. Remus barely remembers them, and they don’t acknowledge him. As far as they are concerned, he died when he was four.”

I need to finish this story and post it.

“That’s awful,” was the best he could think of to say.

“It is. And it’s not.” Damien put down the engine. “Sometimes, you have to sever ties that should never be broken. And sometimes it’s not your fault.”

“And this time?”

“This time might be sometime.”

Sirius swallowed hard. He was going to have to think about that.

***

He stayed the night at the Lupins’, on a camp bed in Remus’s room. At least, that was the theory. But late at night, after Damien and Marilyn had retired for the night, he transformed into the black dog and curled up at the foot of Remus’s bed. And Remus, who understood silence better than anyone else, just stroked the silky ears and didn’t say a word.

***

Two weeks later he was in his regular seat in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk, trying not to remember that he’d chased this woman up a tree.

“I thought,” Professor McGonagall said, looking at him over her spectacles, “that we agreed I would not see you in here again, Mr. Black.”

“I didn’t agree. You just said that and took my silence for consent.”

LOOK! Sirius acting like the jerk we see in canon! (To everyone else.)

She sighed, rubbing her temples. “Sirius, you are an intelligent young man with a bright future. Why do you insist on wasting it?”

“I just-“

“You just sent Mr. Snape to the hospital ward with tentacles!”

Sirius shrugged and slumped further down in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “He started it,” he muttered.

“I don’t care who started it, you’re both too old for this sort of behavior! Don’t you ever think?”

That’s all he ever did, was think. Although that probably wasn’t what McGonagall meant.

She tapped her quill against the parchment on her desk. “Sirius, you’ve been in trouble from almost your first day here, to one degree or another.”

“I was in trouble my first day,” Sirius pointed out. “I called Remus a Mudblood after the Sorting.”

Because Sirius is nothing if not honest.

“And he still speaks to you,” she said dryly. “Anyway, my point was I’m used to you being dragged in here. If a day goes by without you in detention, I worry, because it means we didn’t catch you and Mr. Potter at whatever fool thing the two of you are doing. But lately, it is ceasing to be funny. The nature of your jokes is becoming more malicious and taking an unacceptable turn.”

Sirius shrugged again.

“I’ve had a few owls about you.”

“My parents?”

“Oddly, no. Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin.”

Sirius sat bolt upright. “Again? Can’t he just stay out of it?”

McGonagall looked at him over the edge of her glasses. “Excuse me?”

“Can’t Damien Lupin mind his own business? Just for once? He doesn’t like me, but he still feels justified in coming in and making a mess out of everything!”

“What has he made a mess out of?”

“EVERYTHING! Every time I see him he makes an issue out of it and can’t let it go and he screws everything up! I hate him! He treats me like shit and doesn’t trust me and then he turns around and thinks he can mess with my life! He doesn’t get that it’s not black and white, it’s not that easy! They’re my family!”

McGonagall sat still under the tirade. Sirius didn’t notice; he had risen so he was standing and pacing the small office.

“He tells me to sever ties and to walk off, to run away. But I can’t run away from them! I love them! Yes, my father is a complete wanker and yeah things aren’t good at home and yes my mother never stands up for me and my brother is a total prat, but that does not give him the right to tell me to tell them to all shove off! I DON’T WANT TO!”

I do like this vent on Sirius's part. This scene with Sirius and McG came out rather well, I think.

“Then don’t,” Professor McGonagall said calmly as Sirius panted for breath. “Damien Lupin is an adult, Sirius, but that doesn’t mean he’s always right.”

“He’s never right. Not about me.”

“Well, the only one who can decide such matters is you.”

McG does rule. I think she agrees with Damien, but knows better than to say so. Plus, she wants Sirius to come to his own conclusions.

“Right.” He was pulling himself back together, refusing to meet her eye. He sat back down, and a long silence descended over the pair of them.

“Is there anything else you wish to say, Sirius?” McGonagall asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“All right then. Detention for the prank- you know where and when- and I will see you in class tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am.” He picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, heading for the door.

“And Sirius?”

“Yes?”

“My door is open to you any time.”

He gave her a withering look and left.

I should have ended it here. This last little bit is just a little hokey. Oh well.

Minerva fingered the letters she’d had from Damien Lupin and Timothy Potter. Things were indeed bad at the Black household, in more respects than one. From the accounts she’d had from Lupin over the past few years and her sister at the Ministry, she rather suspected Arden Black was slowly losing his grip on sanity, and Sirius was taking the brunt of it.

She folded the letters and slipped them in her drawer, and hoped that Sirius would take Damien Lupin’s advice and get out while he could, before the darkness engulfed him as well.